ANCIENT PIKES
347
spite of hell and high water, if she’d lived.
“Somehow, the Aglinberry fortune petered out. John Aglinberry’s younger brothers both came to this country and settled in New York, working at one thing and another till he died. They inherited the property share and share alike under our law; but it never did them any good. Nei¬ ther of them was ever able to live in it, and they never could sell it. Some¬ thing—mind you, I’m not saying it was a ghost—but something damned unpleasant, nevertheless, has run off every tenant who’s ever attempted to occupy that place.
“My client is young John Aglin¬ berry, great-nephew of the builder, and last of the family. He hasn’t a cent to bless himself with, except the potential value of Redgables.
“That’s the situation, gentlemen; a young man, heir to a baronetcy, if he wished to go to England to claim it, poorer than a church mouse, with a half-million dollar property eating it¬ self up in taxes and no way to con¬ vert it into a dime in cash till he can find someone to demonstrate that the place isn’t devil-ridden. Do you un¬ derstand why we’re willing to pay a ten thousand dollar fee—contingent on the success of re-establishing Red- gables’ good name?”
“Tiens, Monsieur,” de Grandin ex¬ claimed, grinding the fire from his half-Bmoked cigar, “we do waste the time. I am all impatience to try con¬ clusions with this property-destroying ghost who keeps your so deserving client out of the negotiation of his land and me from a ten thousand dol¬ lar fee. Morbleu, this is a case after my own heart! When Bhall we start for this so charming estate whieh is to pay me ten thousand dollars for ridding it of its specter tenants?”
J OHN agunberet, chiefly distin¬ guished by a wide, friendly grin, met us at the railway station which
lay some five miles from Redgables, and extended a warm handclasp in greeting. “It’s mighty good of you gentlemen to come up here and give me a lift,” he exclaimed as he shep¬ herded us along the platform and helped stow our traps into the un¬ kempt tonneau of a Ford which might have seen better days, though not re¬ cently. “Mr. Self ridge ’phoned me yesterday morning, and I hustled up here to do what I could to make you comfortable. I doubt you’d have been able to get any of the village folks to drive you over to the place— they’re as frightened of it as they would be of a mad dog.”
“But, Monsieur,” de Grandin ex¬ postulated, “do you mean to say you have been in that house by yourself this morning?”
“Uh-huh, and last night, too,” our host replied. “Came up here on the afternoon train yesterday and tidied things up a hit.”
“And you saw nothing, felt noth¬ ing, heard nothing?” de Grandin persisted.
“Of course not,” the young man answered impatiently. “There isn’t anything to see or feel, or hear, ei¬ ther, if you except the usual noises that go with a country place in springtime. There’s nothing wrong with file property, gentlemen. Just a lot of silly gossip which has made one of the finest potential summer resorts in the county a drug on the market. That’s why Mr. Selfridge and I are so anxious to get the statement of gen¬ tlemen of your caliber behind us. One word from you will outweigh all the silly talk these yokels can blab in the next ten years.”
De Grandin cast me a quick smile. “He acknowledges our importance, my friend,” he whispered. “Truly, we shall have to walk fast to live up to such a reputation.”
Further conversation was cut short by our arrival at the gates of our fu¬ ture home. The elder Aglinberry had
